


If I Called You By Your Name

by unagidragonroll



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, M/M, Slow Burn, from woojin’s pov, past jihoon/oc, platonic woojin/sohye
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 01:04:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,702
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16378439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unagidragonroll/pseuds/unagidragonroll
Summary: Woojin knows his favorite chocolate, the butter he buys in every few days, and the microwave food he loves the most.Of a lot of things he regret, he can’t see him answering back when he calls his name.





	If I Called You By Your Name

**Author's Note:**

> again, i suck at doing titles. oh and btw please ignore the prices loool i have no brain cells left to do calculations that makes more sense

“That would be 13.000 won,” the cashier says, and just few second later he takes the cash with a smile, “50.000 won, thank you.”

He clicks the button that the small minimarket is filled with coins clinking against each other. Swiftly, he looks at the small monitor and takes few notes out then pushes back the cash machine. Again, the store is filled with the coins’ sounds again.

“Your change. Do you need a receipt?” When the customer shakes his head, he smiles as he bows a little, “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

And he watches until the customer opens her umbrella, then he still has this smile until she disappears under the rain. 

He sits down. Opening his cold burger that he bought on his way here, he watches the latest soccer match from last night as he hides behind the counter.

 

It’s not really crowded, the minimarket he works at. It’s located at some secluded corner of the neighborhood, and it only takes few meters to reach a bigger shop so unless it’s emergency, or those who ran out condoms, or even just to grab a quick breakfast, not that many people drop by.

Park Woojin, the name that’s written on his temporary ID card. He just uses them from 5 to 11 PM, and he’ll use his other Park Woojin printed ID card from his university. It pays quite well, and since it’s not really packed, Woojin can do his homeworks and studies if he got a test. He’s not a big spender too, so he can get a plate of rice cake on his way back home in every few weeks from his salary.

 

The bell dings and Woojin doesn’t bother to look up. Probably that old woman who lives at that intersection, or maybe the kid who used to fake his ID to buy some alcohol. 

Working there has its perks, indeed.

Woojin doesn’t realize that the previous customer has not done yet when he finished watching the match. He starts to think, are the signs not placed right? Did he or his co-workers put the wrong price tag? He can’t be lost in this medium sized market, can he?

Woojin then decides to just open his comic book. It’s the newest edition and he thinks that he deserve a day without anything that’s college-related.

He is just starting to admire the cover when finally a drenched customer places his stuffs.

There are quiet a lot. 

“Hey,” Woojin automatically greets.

“Hey,” the customer answers back. He smiles. “Uh, you’re not gonna scan these?”

“Oh, sorry,” Woojin quickly does his work. 

In front of him are some basic stuffs that includes a bread, a box of margarine, and a pack of chocolate, but also there are washing powder, softener, and trash bags. 

“That would be 15.000 won,” Woojin says, placing aside a strawberry jam. 

“Here,” he hands the 20.000 bill. “Oh wait, this one too.” He picks up a degradable plastic bag from under the counter.

“That would be 15.100 won,” Woojin says again.

He clicks the button and the room is once again filled with sound of clinking coins. Swiftly, he takes the right amount of notes and coins.  

“Your change. Do you need a receipt?” 

The customer is now packing his stuffs inside the new plastic bag. “Yes please.” 

Woojin then shreds the paper and hands it to him, who’s now finished. He smiles and bows a little, “Thank you. Have a nice day.” 

“You too.” He replies, and he runs to the corner. 

He doesn’t bring any umbrella, that’s why.

 

 

After few days, he comes again. 

It’s sunny outside, and Woojin thank God for any sun because winter is coming for real. He read some news this afternoon on the bus back home that it’s already snowing in Mt. Sorak. 

The bell dinged when Woojin was carefully arranging a placard about ‘Umbrellas For Sale’ so he was back facing the entrance. 

Woojin steps back to admire the new addition to the front corner of the store. He had made sure it’s eye catching enough that Jisung, his boss, was laughing at the placard he presented to him. 

Hearing approaching steps towards the cashier, he quickly walks back there, to find him.

“Hey,” Woojin greets.

“Hey,” he answers back, and he smiles again like the other day.

Before he gets to say anything, Woojin starts to scan but then he stops not long after he started, because the customer’s chuckling.

Woojin looks up.

“Nothing,” he chuckles again, “I thought you’re gonna freeze again like the other day.” 

Woojin can feel his cheeks turning warm, but he’s working now so he ducks his head and continues scanning, albeit a bit slower. 

His stuffs are not that many today: a pack of same brand chocolate from the other day, a pack of instant cappucino sachets, and 3 bowls of mushroom sauce microwave foods.

“That would be 10.000 won,” Woojin says, pressing the button to sum up the total.

“Here,” he says, handing the exact amount. 

“10.000 won, thank you.” Swiftly, he slips the note and pushes the machine closed back again. It was quick, the room barely hear any clinking coin sounds.  

Woojin looks up and he’s still there. 

“Do you need the receipt?” Woojin asks. 

“Yes, please,” he answers. 

Woojin shreds the paper and hands him. He smiles as he bows a little, “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

He smiles, “You too.”

He then walks to the exit door but stops in front of the stacks of umbrella. Woojin can see him looking outside where it’s bright and the temperature is nice. He then walks passed it and turns to the same corner as before.

Woojin hopes it can always be this sunny.

 

 

The next time he comes, he’s bundled with a big puffy jacket. 

Woojin was doing his homework when the bell dinged and he didn’t know why he looked up. 

He doesn’t take long this time. 

“Hey,” Woojin greets, as per usual. 

“Hey,” he greets back, even though he looks quiet uneasy.

Woojin proceeds to take his another bowls of microwave foods with same flavors as before, a pack of chocolate, and a bread.

“That would be 12.000 won,” Woojin says, placing the bread down.

He hands the money without saying anything.

“20.000 won, thank you.” Woojin says and it’s so silent today he can hear the clinking coins louder than any other day. “Here’s your change.”

Woojin looks down to wait for the receipt to be printed but the moment he shreds it, he’s already outside.

Woojin wonders if microwave food is warm enough for a windy day like this.

 

 

He comes again few days after that. It’s getting colder these days that he wears the same puffy jacket from before, but with a bright red beanie on top of his head. 

“Hey,” he greets first before Woojin can stand up from his seat.

“Hey,” Woojin answers back.

He looks to the stuffs the other has poured on to the tables: two packs of instant microwaveable rice, a pack of chocolate, and a carton of eggs.

Woojin snaps his mind and begins scanning. 

“I’m thinking about making some omelets.” He suddenly says whilst taking out his plastic bag from his backpack. It's pretty worn out now, the plastic bag.

“Oh,” Woojin nods, “That’s great.”

He chuckles. “Here.”

Woojin hasn’t said the amount yet. He takes the offered notes. “15.000 won, thank you.”

“I hope I won’t fail,” he says again.

Woojin can’t hear any clinking coins. He looks up, handing the money, “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” He takes the change and the receipt Woojin gives, “Have a nice day.”

“You too.” Woojin mumbles, seeing him skipping to the corner.

 

 

It’s been around 2 months since the first time he came, and he always comes around twice a week. There was also this one time he came three times a week because of an ice cream promotion. 

He bought the cookie dough one.

“Hey,” Woojin greets. “A party?”

He laughs, “A little one.”

Woojin nods, scanning the beers and some finger snacks. There are also the instant rice packs, a pack of chocolate, and a box of the butter he used to buy. “That would be 25.000 won.”

“Here,” he scans his credit card. It’s his first time. “Haven’t got my paycheck.”

Woojin just nods. He then shreds the receipt. “Your receipt. Thank you. Have a nice day.”

“Thanks. You too!” He says, a bit cheerfully than the other days.

Woojin looks through the window where he bumps into a girl at the intersection, and they walk together to his corner.

Woojin can’t think of anything yet because another customer, an old woman, just placed her groceries. 

 

 

“Hey,” Woojin greets.

 

It’s almost Christmas when Woojin’s shift ends early. He needs to go back to Busan and thankfully his co-worker is able to cover for him.

He looked at the time, it was almost 10 and his train leaves at 10.30. If he missed this one, he would just stay at the station and take the first train tomorrow. 

Then he came running.

Woojin quickly stood on his feet behind the cash.

 

“Hey,” he greets, slightly breathless. “Do you— uh, you do sell condoms, right?”

Woojin gulps. “It’s right there,” he points to the second isle.

“Thanks.” He says, grinning.

Not a minute passed, he’s already back with two boxes of it, and a lube.

Woojin scans in silent.

“That would be—“

“Here, take the change.” He shoves a wrinkled 10.000 won bill, and he runs again to the corner.

Woojin stares until his co-worker comes while repeatedly apologizing.

Woojin wishes if only his co-worked came earlier.

 

 

January rolls by, and Woojin’s finally back in town, and of course, to his part-time work.

It’s the beginning of the year, so after Jisung had collected them all for a short meeting this morning, Woojin and his co-workers decided to clean up the store and do a little renovation. The Christmas is already few weeks back anyway.

That’s when the bell dings.

“Welcome!” Sohye’s voice is cheerful as ever, greeting a new customer.

Woojin doesn’t bother to look. He’s busy trying a way to make these canned tuna standing proud, but all hell broke loose along with his tuna tower when a familiar chuckle can be heard.

Woojin looks back. He’s there, in a black hoodie and a pair of jeans. He realizes he’s never paid attention to his jeans that has weird ripped part on the calf, instead of the knees. 

“Isn’t it hard?” He asks.

Woojin turns his head to the dispersed cans again. He’s in the middle of collecting them when suddenly a hand is shoved his way with two cans of tuna.

“Thanks,” Woojin takes them and stacks it the traditional way, not putting them on one single stack like before. “You don’t need to.”

“What do you think about these tunas? Are they easy to be cooked?” He asks, scrutinizing a can.

Woojin stops placing the tunas. “It’s good. Just takes few minutes to fry.”

“Great,” he stands up, “I’ll try this and I’ll let you know how it turned out.”

When Woojin is sure he’s already outside, he stands up and peeks from the end of the aisle.

There’s a girl with extended hand, and he takes it before they walk to the corner.

Woojin hopes that can wasn't the dented one he had separated from the others.

 

  

Months passed, flowers are blossoming, and the temperature is getting more bearable. 

For Woojin, it’s the best timing for to be productive.

Some people have their full energy from the summer, and some might have them even in dark winter days, but mostly, Woojin included, during the spring.

 

“Seriously,” Sohye laughs, her eyes twinkling with the tears from her unending laugh, “There’s no way you would do that!”

“No, it’s real!” Woojin steps out from the cashier table to re-enact the scene where he was playing truth or dare at the college christmas party. He’s riding his imaginary horse, raising one of his arms and the other one is covering his armpit. “This, with the afro. Of course I would win.”

Sohye’s laughing louder, and Woojin’s laughing too, but his laugh dies down as the bell dings. 

Sohye looks around, still with her remnant of laughter, “Oh, hello.”

“Hello,” the customer replies, but his eyes are on Woojin’s.

Woojin quickly retreats back to his place behind the cashier. Sohye then too, bids her goodbye to Woojin and leaves him to go back home. Suddenly, it’s too silent with only the market’s jingle song barely playing in the background. 

After some minutes, and he finally comes with a basket full of groceries.

“Hey,” Woojin greets and starts scanning right away.

There are no microwave foods, no instant rice packs, but there’s still a pack of chocolate that he always buys.

“She’s been cooking,” he says, taking out a bottle of oil, some salt, pepper, some more cooking essentials, and Woojin scans a box of woman’s pads the quickest as possible.

He looks up to see the customer chuckling slightly, stuffing in his groceries into a light colored tote bag. Woojin then clears his throat, busying himself to press the button that makes the room’s filled with clinking coins. “That would be 20.000 won.”

The customer scans his credit card and there Woojin sees the ring. 

He pushes back the cash registry, since it’s no use after all, and shreds the receipt.

“Thanks! Have a nice day!” He says after that, still smiling way brighter than ever, and he walks out to the corner.

Woojin thinks to himself, it’s really no use, this meaningless crush to someone he knows nothing about.

 

 

At the end of spring, Woojin’s thinking about getting some days off from his part-time since he needs to graduate, thus he needs more time to complete the requirements to submit his draft.

On the last night before he takes his break, he hears a familiar voice when he’s waiting by the traffic light to turn green.

He turns his head back to spot the nearest bar in front of the subway station. There are some commotion and it’s his gut feeling when Woojin, with some more passerby, come closer to see what’s the fuss about.

There are a couple of guys about his age, one on the floor and though the light is dimmed, he looked like he just got a good hit on the jaw.

There’s also this big built security who just yelled at them to go away or something Woojin couldn't hear clearly, because that moment he spots him, being held by one guy who’s slightly taller than him, clearly looked like calming him down.

“Go ahead and take her! Be responsible and raise your child right!” He yells before suddenly, he’s taking his ring off. “Here. I can even provide you the ring. Be engaged or something. She'd love it.” Then he shrugs his friend’s grip on his arms, and there he spots Woojin’s eyes too in the middle of the crowd.

Woojin doesn’t know why he has to run away, and Woojin’s thankful the light’s green at that moment.

 

  

It’s fall again, and Woojin’s done with his preparations that he’s ready to submit his draft. It took him around three months that consist of repeated rejections from his supervisor and countless revisions.

He smiles as he steps in the minimarket that has been a part of his college life, but this time, as a customer.

The bell dings and it feels weird to him, because usually he’s there for the next 6 hours, but now he comes by just to greet his co-worker and as a customer who’s ran out of shampoo.

“Yeah, he’s still working on his— oh, he’s here!” Sohye’s voice can be heard as soon as he turns around to greet her, “Woojin, you’re here!”

It’s expected to see Sohye this bubbly, because what he doesn’t expect is him, standing there with 2 bowls of his mushroom-flavored microwave food, a pack of chocolate, and a bucket of Ben and Jerry’s medium sized ice cream, the cookie dough one.

“Hey,” he smiles. 

“Hey,” Woojin replies, after a good pause. 

 

Life gives you the most unpredictable things, and a sudden coffee appointment with his regular customer is one of them. Yes, Woojin called it an appointment, because it wouldn’t be called a date, would it?

He ordered a cafe mocha with whipped cream, and Woojin order his americano.

He chuckles once they sit down by the window. The cafe is not very far from the minimarket, and it’s getting dark outside already. “I can’t believe I’m meeting you right here, and we’re having coffees.”

Woojin chokes on his Americano. It’s bitter. He looks up, seeing him now laughing at his flustered state.

It’s no surprise that he turns out to be very talkative. In a span of 1 hour, Woojin had learned about his major, that he worked as a waiter at a Chinese restaurant near his campus, and the reason he broke up with his previous girlfriend.

Woojin’s been giving sufficient response to everything he spills. 

“So now, no more cookings,” he chuckles bitterly, ending his sad story about being betrayed by his ex. Just for a split second Woojin can stare at that frown before he suddenly brightens up again. “Now it’s your turn.”

Woojin chokes on air because the Americano’s long gone. “Me?”

He nods, way too eagerly. “Yeah, tell me about you.”

“Uh,” Woojin scratches the back of his neck, “Nothing’s interesting, actually.”

“No, I want to hear.” He says again.

Woojin looks up to see him prodding his chin with his palm. “Well,” and so Woojin tells him enough about his major, the part-time job he’s all familiar about, and no romantic encounters at all. 

He chuckles to hear the last one.

“Why?” Woojin asks, quiet flustered again. 

“Why did you have to mention, literally, ‘I have no romantic encounter’ to me?” He laughs, clapping his hand, “You’re so funny.”

Woojin grins awkwardly. 

 

They call it a night after few more talks about the weather, the politics, and the microwave food he’s fond of.

“It’s been the source of my life,” he says dreamily, “I wouldn’t know how to live up until now if it wasn’t because of that.”

Woojin chuckles lowly. They’ve reached the corner where Woojin usually sees him disappeared. 

“Thanks for walking me,” he says out of the blue. 

Woojin snorts. “I barely walked a kilometer from the cafe.”

“Still,” he grins.

Then it’s silent. Woojin wonders why even the wind doesn’t pass by when he needs something, anything, to cover the sound of his own heart loudly thumping.

“Actually,” he suddenly says, shifting on his feet that Woojin can see him fidgeting (yeah, Woojin’s staring at the ground), “I’ve been meaning to ask for your number, if you don’t mind.”

Woojin swears he can’t get more suprised than that. He looks up and maybe he can’t hide the shock that he laughs at his face.

“Why are you so startled?” He laughs, pointing at his face.

“Uh, sorry,” Woojin quickly ducks his head again. “You were kidding, huh.”

“Wait, I’m sorry,” he stifles his laugh with his palm, “But I was serious. I went to the market, but seeing you’re still taking the days off I was about to ask your co-worker for your number but maybe she would think I’m a stalker or something..” he mumbles the last part. Sensing Woojin’s still not answering, he then laughs sheepishly. “Right.. it isn’t right, is it? We barely know each other but uh..” 

“Give me your phone,” Woojin suddenly blurts. The other blinks for few seconds before taking out his phone for Woojin to take. 

When Woojin gives him back the phone, he smiles widely, possibly the widest smile Woojin has ever seen for a while.  

“Thanks, Woojin.” He says. “Park Woojin, right?”

Woojin can only nod. 

Then he walks to his corner, and Woojin stays rooted to the ground and only realized the whole thing when he yells, “My name is Jihoon! Park Jihoon!”

Then he disappears behind the wall.

Park Jihoon.

 

 

It’s around 3 days after Woojin gave Jihoon his number. They’ve texted, but not so much, and only the casual conversations that lead to another coffee appointment.

Woojin rushes to finish his presentation for the thesis defense that his supervisor had asked him before the actual defense. Once he has clicked the send button, he swiftly leaves the library to stop by a 711 near his university, and eventually, he runs to the bus stop, with laptop on his right arm, and a pack of chocolate in his left one.

He checks his phone, no message yet. Probably he’s still finishing with his own task. 

As short as it is, Woojin can’t help but feeling giddy. He can’t believe that it’s all happening. His meaningless crush, as he called it once, turns out to be one of the most meaningful points in his life.

College life is fun afterall, he can finally agreed to that statement.

Woojin is in the middle of contemplating whether a chocolate is too much for a second appointment when a call comes, and it’s from an unregistered number.

Woojin presses the stop button and hops down. He doesn’t bother crossing to take another bus towards the opposite way because he believes he’ll arrive faster by feet to the hospital.

 

 

It’s a head injury and it’s a severe one that involves his brain stem.

Woojin’s mind couldn’t completely understand what the doctor said before, even when previously he insisted to the doctor that he’s the only one Jihoon has in the city, and that his parents will only get there tomorrow morning so the doctor had to explain everything to him.

He only heard a piece and piece of informations, and still, he can’t register the fact that Jihoon’s lying there, unconscious, with machines being tucked to his nose and mouth, bags of fluids are connected to his body by two needles on each of his arms, and what Woojin will never understand is how come Jihoon can never wake up again without those machines supporting him.

“The injury damaged his brainstem function, so he’s machine-dependent,” Woojin hears the doctor is speaking to the phone. Must be Jihoon’s parents, because what he hears the next is the doctor’s calming down the person on the line. 

Jihoon is an engineering student, and he’s working this final project of his that Woojin knew a little from their texts. Jihoon was telling him proudly about this project, saying that no one in his department would make this as a final thesis project since it is very hard, and it took him months to convince his partner, Donghan, to do that with him.

Speaking about Donghan, he was the one who held Jihoon back that night he punched a guy in a club. Donghan has come earlier and he broke down the moment he entered the room, and he still is, right by Jihoon’s bed and holding his hand.

 

The room is called rescusitation room. Woojin sits there at the corner in silent, why would the room be named with rescusitation room, when they can’t rescusitate Jihoon from his sleep? Jihoon looks completely fine by the way, sleeping like this. Only few bruises on his delicate face, and there are splints on his right hand and his right leg. Then again, with bruises or not, with limbs being casted or not, Jihoon is always delicate in Woojin’s eyes.

Woojin was arrived breathless from the run. He quickly ran to the security under the ER sign, and he was brought to Jihoon who was already in that state, with more blood around his bruises.

“You’re the last person he contacted,” the nurse told Woojin.

  

Woojin stayed the night there, both him and Donghan. They only introduced themselves to each other in midnight, when the ER outside is not so crowded, and the only sound they can hear is the beeping machine of ventilator.

“Thanks,” Donghan says lastly, still not leaving Jihoon’s side, before he himself drifted off to sleep with red eyes.

Woojin just nods.

 

 

The next day comes blurry. 

Woojin can’t remember his feet moving, but they are, and he even supports Donghan to walk besides him.

Jihoon’s parents arrived with the earliest plane, and his mother couldn’t control the outburst.

This might leave a scar, Woojin used to say about his wounds from falling while playing football with his friends. As he has grown up with those scars, Woojin thought that all wounds are meant to heal with the time, whether it leaves scars or not. 

The moment Jihoon’s parents signed the paper to relieve Jihoon from his ventilators, Woojin thinks to himself, that not all wounds could heal, even as the time passes, and all efforts are made to get over it.

The room’s suddenly silent, no more pumping sound from the machine that makes Jihoon’s chest heave, no more beeping machine that indicates Jihoon’s hearbeat, and the drops of IV fluids stop.

 

Jihoon’s mother cries all the way to the funeral hall.  

Woojin can’t stop wondering, why are all these people don’t question who he is? Because he’s been with Donghan, taking parts in taking guests as Jihoon’s parents are trying to get some sleep.

Everyone’s been giving him a pat of support. From what Woojin learns that it’s Jihoon’s school friends, college friends, and there also came Jihoon’s ex. She was crying, a lot, though with apparent baby bump. Woojin thinks he doesn’t deserve these supports. Woojin only knew Jihoon for three days, despite a year of knowing his favorite butter. Compared to Jihoon's ex, she even had redder eyes than his. He looked like just stayed overnight for a task.

“I used to hate this chocolate so much,” Donghan says, snapping Woojin from his inner thoughts with his hoarse voice. Donghan looked lifeless, eating a bar of chocolate that Jihoon loves. “Now I feel like eating this whenever I miss him.”

Donghan chuckles bitterly and offers Woojin, which he receives and tastes it for himself.

Yeah, it tastes bitter.

 

 

Still, Woojin can’t believe that Jihoon’s inside the coffin he’s carrying to the car, and again, from the car to where he will rest forever.

Sohye’s by his side. Before, it was when Sohye came and he couldn’t stand properly to send her off. He realized back then, he could no longer support Donghan to walk as he started to feel dizzy from the lack of sleep, but the thought that Jihoon’s going to be there alone in few minutes is what his head can't handle the most.

 

“Park Jihoon,” Woojin mumbles to himself.

He’s reading the writings under Jihoon’s portrait. It’s his name, his birthyear that’s unsurprisingly the same as his, and the date of his death.

 

“Park Jihoon,” he says again, still mumbling to himself.

Sohye’s not paying attention since now Jihoon’s family member is giving his speech. Maybe Woojin’s thankful she doesn’t notice, because Woojin doesn’t want anybody to hear this, other than Jihoon himself.

 

“Park Jihoon,” he mumbles again, when the cemetery is filled with cries again as the coffin is being put down.  

 

“Park Jihoon,” again, when he sees more little and little of the coffin under the soil.

 

“Jihoon,” he calls again, when Sohye bid him goodbye, along with other guests.

 

“Jihoon,” he whispers, when Donghan starts to cry again, hugging Jihoon’s picture tight.

 

“Jihoon,” he whispers again, when Jihoon’s parents ask him to leave together.

 

 

“Jihoon,” he calls one last time.

 

For all the chocolates, all the microwave bowls, those butters he had scanned before, and all those greetings they had shared, and all the opportunities he had wasted — Woojin isn’t sure of what he and Jihoon had shared for him to feel this empty.

This hurts, and might leave a scar for a lifetime, for Woojin doesn’t know how will Jihoon answers him if he called him by his name.

Woojin finally lets go the tear he has been holding.


End file.
